


The Adelle DeWitt Affair

by coldqueen5



Category: Dollhouse
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 08:39:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldqueen5/pseuds/coldqueen5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's rich, successful, and beautiful; she's also involved in the biggest digital bank heist in history. He's clever, determined, and charming, and he's going to get the money back by any means necessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Adelle DeWitt Affair

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by The Thomas Crown Affair, both the 1968 and the 1999 versions. One of my favorite movies, I couldn't resist trying my hand at a remake of my own.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. I don't even own parts of this dialogue. It's called paraphrasing, bitches.
> 
> (Originally published 06/18/2011.)

" _I want to to talk to you about men."_

_She wasn't paying attention, the thoughts behind her steely gray eyes leading her miles from the quiet office. Had Judith not been used to her patient's preoccupation she might have been insulted by the lack of attention._

" _Ms. DeWitt?"_

" _I'm sorry?" The force of those eyes shifting to her was almost physical; Adelle DeWitt had a a way of looking at a person that made you feel like you had never been seen before and never would be seen again. Judith reflected silently that perhaps her client should have considered a profession in psychiatry, with just a look she seemed to fathom your every secret and thought._

" _Men. I want to talk to you about men."_

_Adelle smiled at the statement, her lips curving with no actual warmth behind it. "Oh, I enjoy men."_

" _Enjoyment isn't intimacy."_

" _And intimacy isn't necessarily enjoyment."_

" _How would you know? Has it occurred to you that you have a problem with trust?"_

_Her smile twisted at the corner, and there was the spark of fire that Judith knew lurked behind Adelle's cool exterior. Her smirk was bitter, but it was a reaction where Adelle usually allowed none. "I trust myself implicitly."_

" _But can other people trust you?"_

" _You mean society at large?"_

" _I mean men, Ms. DeWitt."_

" _Yes, a man could trust me."_

" _Good. Under what circumstances would you allow that to happen?"_

_Adelle paused before replying, "A man could trust me as long as his interests didn't run too contrary to my own."_

" _And society? If its interests run counter to your own?"_

_She smiled._

* * *

The first time he saw her were photos tacked to an office wall, taken during surveillance so most were grainy or blurry. Half of them only gave an impression of what she looked like, the smooth swoop of dark hair half concealing her face, but not the arrogant smirk that flashed brightly in contrast, calculating gray eyes taking in and consuming every detail of her surroundings as she walked through her office, the park, even her home. In some she was dressed to impress, feminine suits that flattered her figure, and in others more formal evening wear as she attended galas and the charity events that she was famous for sponsoring. In less than a quarter she wore little to nothing at all.

Laurence Dominic was sure just by looking at them that she was absolutely certain she was being photographed in every single one. Maybe it was the body language, maybe it was the expression on her face, but she knew she was being watched and she was amused by it.

"Can I help you?" The voice was female but hard, curious but also warning; he turned from the photos to face the person asking the question and was surprised by the delicate face glaring back.

"Hello, Lieutenant," he replied rather than answered, his hands sliding down and straightening his lapel before slipping the cashmere trench coat from his shoulders. He tossed it casually over the beaten up metal desk in the corner before turning back to the surveillance photos. "You already have a suspect."

"It's Detective Tsetsang, actually. Who are you?"

"Laurence Dominic." His fingers traced the smooth gloss of the one photo that stuck out from the rest, at least for him. Her fingers tangled in the mane of her horse, but her face was soft with affection as she nuzzled the horse's neck mid-ride. Her body was relaxed against the back of the horse and he could imagine she moved with the beast like it was an extended part of her. Without warning his imagination twisted and he could easily picture her atop of  _himself_ with such abandon. The visual was so visceral and sudden that his breath caught in his throat, a blush warming his cheeks before he could swallow back the unwarranted spike of interest. He'd never had such a reaction to a woman, let alone one he'd had yet to even meet. Dominic was a true professional, and with the ease of years of practice he repressed the flash of personal reaction and focused on the job at hand. "I've been sent from Europe to assist in the investigation."

"Insurance?"

"Something like that," he evaded, turning back to the detective with a small smile. "Tell me about the money."

"Show me some credentials," the detective replied and Dominic approved of her refusal to be swayed from the proper course of introduction. He produced the correct papers, signed by the International Finance Corporation and providing him with access to all the investigative materials gathered by the LAPD so far and the ability to direct the civilian investigation in any way he chose, and waited for the Detective to give him the explanation he'd demanded. He refused to repeat himself.

Returning the papers with a sigh Detective Tsetsang moved to the wall opposite the surveillance footage and began to speak. "Two days ago one hundred million dollars was transferred from an account at the World Bank. The transaction occurred at 3:47 pm, was trafficked through two hundred and forty eight accounts before breaking into smaller sums and disappearing. We have techs still attempting to trace the money's course, but as of this moment they've had no success at finding a final destination. The transaction began on the bank's closed network, within their main Los Angeles branch. Security apprehended three suspects at the scene."

Dominic nodded, his eyes taking in the time line on the dry erase board with steely eyes that immediately zeroed in on the apparent discrepancies. "They were robbing the public bank at gunpoint?"

"Yes. One of the tellers hit the silent alarm and they were taken into custody during their escape."

"How much did they almost get away with?"

"About fifty grand," Tsetsang estimated, stepping up to his side and turning her eyes to the board to attempt to try and see whatever it was Dominic was focusing on with such concentration. "Why?"

"It's a big step from fifty grand to a hundred million. It's a big step from physical robbery to digital theft. Were any of them in contact with the terminal where the transaction occurred?"

"One of them," Tsetsang started, pointing to one of the mugshots, "Karl William Kraft was within the manager's office where the transfer was initiated for several minutes."

"Alone?"

"No, that's where Ms. DeWitt comes in," she explained. "DeWitt was there for a meeting at the corporate level and was exiting with her associates when the robbery occurred. The manager pulled DeWitt into his office in an attempt to protect her from being harmed but the robbers cleared all the offices. DeWitt was one of our witnesses, identified Kraft by his voice."

"How do you go from star witness to being watched by the police?"

Dominic could see the expression on the detective's face from the corner of his eye, but he didn't turn to study it fully. He was more interested in what she would reveal when she thought he wasn't looking than what she would say when confronted head on.

"It's for her protection," Tsetsang replied, but she was frowning as she said it. "All three suspects are Russian connected, and though she can more than afford her own security I prefer a hands on approach."

"How have the interrogations gone?"

"Nowhere. Finding a translator for Belorussian is difficult."

Dominic smirked and turned to the detective. "How about you let me try?"

"You speak obscure East Slavic languages?"

"Give me Joseph Hearn," he replied, his finger lightly tapping one of the mug shots. The man's list of previous convictions as provided by Interpol was extensive, but it was the placid calm in the man's face that caused Dominic to choose him.

Tsetsang noted that he didn't answer the question, but gestured for the patrolmen just outside the door to bring the man to an interrogation room anyways.

* * *

"It was a set-up," Dominic explained as he stepped back into her office an hour later. "They do speak English, by the way. They were hired in Odessa, everything was already in place. Blueprints, time lines, tools, transportation."

"They were cut-and-paste thugs," Tsetsang observed, "no wonder they failed."

"Who says they failed? To the contrary, they were an excellent distraction," Dominic conceded, seating himself behind the desk and leaning back to study array of evidence around the room. He smiled in admiration even as he turned back to Detective Tsetsang. "It's a good plan, well-played. Elegant. An elegant crime by an elegant person."

"Doesn't matter how good the plan was, when they start spending all that money we'll catch them."

Dominic shook his head lightly, his thoughts already miles ahead of Tsetsang's. "This isn't about money."

"Then where do we go from here? We've got three criminals going down for the armed robbery, but what about the big money? Who goes down for that?"

"I want to talk to DeWitt."

"The English Rose? You think she's involved? A hard day for her involves having to unpin her own hair," Tsetsang scoffed, leaning back in her desk chair with a patronizing smile.

Dominic shrugged and stood, pulling his trench on with an amused smile. He'd enjoy proving the detective wrong.

* * *

The grating screech of metal on metal echoed through the room, bouncing off the high ceilings and causing several servants to grimace before continuing their work. The sabers were sharp enough that even the white padding of the fencing suits weren't enough to curb every injury and the physical exertion of the sparring could be heard through every exclamation and gasp. Neither fighter gave an inch, and though both were tall and thin, the slighter of the two had the speed needed to win.

Winning was, of course, what she did on a regular basis.

The tip of her weapon pressed solidly into her opponent's chest, and she knew he could feel a pinch just over his heart. She waited several seconds before she straightened, giving herself the time to remove reaction from her face before she removed her protective face gear. "I do believe that makes my second win in a row."

"I bet you a thousand dollars you can't do it again," Anthony replied with a smile, tossing his own mask aside as he took her hand and rose from his sprawl on the matted floor.

She hesitated, her eyes studying her sparring partner with calculating eyes. "Let's make things interesting, Mr. Ceccoli. Ten to one odds I take first blood."

"If you weren't so damned rich I'd almost feel bad about taking your money, Adelle."

They both forwent their face gear and peeled their gloves off without asking. While the fight before had been difficult but fought in good friendship, the new stakes had raised the competitive spirit within the room and their ferocity increased to the point of savageness. It was with some surprise that Adelle found herself on her back gazing at the moldings of her ceiling and contemplating the stinging cut across the back of her hand.

Anthony's hand appeared just over her face, offering her assistance in rising from her abject humiliation on the floor, and she allowed herself to be pulled back to her feet. "Again? Same odds."

"Adelle, that's a hundred thousand dollars," he protested, though his face already clearly broadcast his intentions to accept.

She shrugged and glanced over at the timepiece on the mantel. "You have somewhere better to be?"

* * *

"She's competitive, adventurous, hates to lose. Never betrays her true motives, keeps everything locked up real tight in that head of hers. She has underlings who do a lot of the work of running Rossum, but the decisions come from her, they just follow through. A control freak who's not afraid to get her hands dirty."

Tsetsang swallowed half her beer in one swallow before leaning back into the seat and letting her mind spin around Dominic's description of Adelle DeWitt. "You got all that from spying on one fencing session?"

"I went over her files first, background from childhood up. She's smart and clever, a dangerous combination. She's also absolutely ruthless," Dominic added, gesturing for the bartender to bring another drink for Detective Tsetsang and one for himself as well.

"Almost sounds like you're describing yourself," Tsetsang teased. "How does one go from Midwestern bail-bondsman's son to insurance investigator pulling in five percent stake in million dollar insurance policies, anyways?" Dominic tilted his head, acknowledging her research into his past with a quirked eyebrow.

"Sheer determination."

"You're not getting near Adelle DeWitt, determined or not. She'll be surrounded by shark lawyers before we even alert the chief of police that we want a follow-up interview."

Dominic smiled and it wasn't a nice smile, not at all. "Good thing I don't need to work within your rules."

* * *

She was sitting at the bar when he walked in, speaking to a moderately attractive man wearing a suit and subtlety shifting his body closer with each minute of conversation. Dominic watched the man laugh at something she said, his hand smoothly sliding across the bar to rest within inches of where her own hand rested. The stranger was making all the right moves, laying on the charm and dazzling her with witty repartee but even from fifty feet away Dominic could tell Adelle wasn't buying any of it.

He made his way through the crowd, straightening his suit unconsciously and smiling just a bit to himself in anticipation of ruining the man's night, arriving just behind the couple in time to hear the man offer to buy her a drink. It was the perfect entrance point, an opening he couldn't resist.

"She'll have three fingers of scotch, neat. I'll take a martini, stirred," he added to the bartender, who immediately turned from the three to prepare the drinks. Dominic stepped closer, locking eyes with the suitor and gesturing for him to step away. "Excuse me," he provided, before turning his back on the man to face Adelle, already closer to her than the man had dared try to be. The perfume she'd dabbed on her neck pulse points before leaving her office teased his olfactory senses and the idea of pressing his face to the crook just under the smooth curve of her chin seemed irresistible just for a second, but it was only a moment before he moved past it.

She smiled at him in amusement, paying no heed to the bartender who delivered their drinks, nor to her suitor who disappeared into the crowd at Dominic's dismissal. "How did you know what I drink?"

"I've been reading about you," he admitted truthfully, sipping at his drink as she thought over the statement.

"Where?"

"In a file."

Her smile widened and she wrapped her fingers around her drink without looking at it. She too let the silence fill the air between them, enjoying a taste of very expensive scotch before replying. "Who do you work for?"

"I'm in finance," he evaded. She shifted in her seat but he gave her no space. He wanted to be in her face, wanted her unsettled. Her comfort zone involved pushing people away and he needed to make it clear he wouldn't be pushed.

"Investment? Stock broker? C.F.O.?"

"Insurance."

"I'm covered."

Dominic smiled, she was as quick-witted as he thought she'd be. "Not for this. The money? You didn't really think they'd just cut a check and reimburse the bank for it?"

"You..." she let her question trail off, confusion raising her eyebrow in a way that beckoned him closer though he rebuffed the urge.

"Get them things," he finished. "Where there's this much money involved it usually means someone's head."

"And whose head are you after?"

"Your's," he boldly stated, finishing his drink and setting it aside. His fingers clasped her free hand, raising it to his lips to press a chaste kiss to the soft skin, running his thumb over the scratch that broke the smooth surface. "Good evening, Ms. DeWitt."

He moved away from her, slipping through the crowd easily and retrieving his coat from the check in. He gave himself time, hesitated in the foyer, and waited for her to follow. He didn't doubt that she would.

"Are you trying to imply that I had something to do with the theft, Mister..." Her voice called out to him from the entranceway to the bar, and he silently cheered his astute reading of her character.

"Dominic. And no, I wouldn't say trying," he corrected. He waited until she stood next to him, slipping her coat check ticket from her fingers and handing it to the attendant without asking. Once they were alone again, their conversation resumed.

"What's your stake in this, Mr. Dominic?"

"Five percent of the value recovered."

The attendant laid Adelle's coat across the counter and Dominic retrieved it before she could reach for it. He opened it for her like a gentleman, and her husky words of thanks were surprisingly intimate within the close contact of sliding her arms into the sleeves. They stepped away from the coat check and walked together towards the door, this time he kept his distance quite deliberately, unwilling to admit to being unsettled by how his body was reacting to being near this woman.

"Not an investigator, then; you're a bounty hunter," Adelle teased, an amused smile dancing across her lips as she gazed over at him. Dominic noted with some surprise that in heels she was his height exactly, their eyes lined up perfectly and it made her stare seem discomfortingly direct.

"If you like," he allowed, shrugging off the verbal play on words.

"Always get your man?"

"Or woman."

"Think you'll get me?"

"I hope so."

Silence strung taut between them as they stepped outside, but it wasn't unpleasant silence. It was a silence that was filled with the things they both knew but wouldn't admit. He knew she was behind the theft of the money, she knew that he knew but wouldn't be able to prove it. They both knew they were attracted to one another and that given how they were meeting and why, it wouldn't be wise to act on that attraction. Adelle knew, however, that she could rarely resist playing with fire.

Dominic knew that this was the perfect opportunity to get closer to his suspect.

He grasped her arm as they walked down the front steps of the hotel, gesturing to the sleep black car waiting at the curb. "Can I drop you somewhere?"

"I have my own car, but thank you," Adelle rebuffed. She waited until he stepped to the car, the driver opening the door for him, before she spoke again. "Have dinner with me tomorrow." It wasn't a request.

He hesitated, turning to study her face in the street lights. He nodded slowly, pretending like inviting him closer wasn't exactly what he wanted her to do.

"I have something to take care of, so let's make it an early dinner, yes?"

She didn't wait for his response, just turned to her own car and slipped into the backseat. Dominic watched her car glide away into the dark of the city before he did the same.

* * *

" _What's happened?"_

" _Happened? What do you mean?"_

" _Whenever I talk, while you're tuning out what I'm saying, the corners of your mouth go up. You're enjoying something, it's not me. What is it?"_

_Adelle chuckled lightly to herself, biting her bottom lip lightly before responding. "An entertainment."_

" _Very little entertains you, so I can easily guess...a worthy adversary?"_

_Judith wasn't comforted by the softness that crossed Adelle's eyes. Any reaction from this particular client was rare, but too much reaction could be seen as a bad omen._

_Adelle didn't answer, she didn't need to. Her psychiatrist could read the answer on her face._

* * *

"You told her she was a suspect. The chief of police is calling down and chewing out my ass because you went balls-to-the-wall, declaring persons of interest without proof or anything to back it up but your hunch!"

Dominic ignored Tsetsang's rant and moved through the detective's office, setting down the tray of coffees and pulling out his strong black concoction. "I found out in ten minutes what would've taken you weeks. She did it. Smug bitch did it, and I just need time to prove it."

"You've stalled the investigation. It's going to take us weeks to get anywhere near her again," Tsetsang scolded, restlessly shuffling papers on her desk for lack of being able to smack Dominic as she clearly wanted to.

"No, I jump-started it."

"And what do we have to show for it? Besides your date?"

"She likes to gamble, take risks. I'm just going to play with her awhile."

"Who's playing who, Mr. Dominic?"

"You saying I shouldn't go?" He asked, settling on the corner of Tsetsang's desk and watching as she grabbed a folder and made to storm out.

"Don't piss off the department, Mr. Dominic. Let us handle this."

It wasn't an answer, but he probably wouldn't have heeded one from her anyways.

* * *

"You know there's something I don't quite understand."

Adelle waited until the waiter placed the entrée in front of them before responding. "And what is that?"

"Why?"

Her mood was oddly buoyant considering the failed attempt at serving a warrant at her home earlier that afternoon by the LAPD. She'd seen him loitering outside her home, gloating lightly when Detective Tsetsang had found herself escorted from the premises within the half hour. He'd spared a glance at her in the window, saluting his appreciation of her tactics, before joining the rest of the police force in exiting the gated neighborhood. Perhaps she should've taken that as a sign and canceled this foolhardy foray into social interaction with the man determined to make her pay for the bank robbery. Adelle liked to imagine she was in control of the situation, however, and Dominic was an unstable variable that she needed more knowledge of before she could properly calculate for his actions.

She set aside her fork and knife and turned her full attention to him, ignoring the two patrolmen that attempted to dine incognito in the corner, though they were doing a poor job of concealing their observance. "Why what?"

"Were you bored? Acquisitions and mergers looking stodgy? Was it more fun getting it than keeping it?"

"Is this the fun part for you?"

"How do you mean?"

"It's not about the money. You like the chase," Adelle observed, watching his face and noting the precise movement of the muscle just above his temple, the only sign that her insight struck true.

"Not many women get the chase," he replied, setting aside his own utensils to focus entirely on her as she had on him. "Maybe it's like poker, maybe we men just don't let you in the game."

"That could be true. My brothers always told me I didn't have the head for business," she replied with a small smile.

"And look where they are now, minor V.P.s in  _your_  company," he noted, toasting the fact with his wine and an answering smile.

"Well played, Mr. Dominic," she whispered softly, though not so softly he couldn't hear her.

The waiter arrived with dessert, cleared their barely touched entrées without question, and they allowed the conversation to end unresolved. They turned their words back to more appropriate third date conversation, never mind the fact that both had thick files detailing every facet of the others' life. They were both still pretending this was something it wasn't, after all.

* * *

He walked her to her door, his hand resting warmly on the small of her back. Usually Adelle abhorred when men presumed to attempt to guide her in any way, and perhaps it was the wine from dinner but she didn't resent Dominic's touch. She turned at the door in a quick movement, and they both found themselves standing entirely too close. She smiled when he stepped back, smoothly taking the step down with little hesitation. "I'd invite you in," she started, her voice low and husky since with him so close there was no need to speak loudly.

"But the world is watching," he finished, his eyes sliding to the side to the unmarked police car that sat so obviously under one of the street lights. "Besides, you're redecorating and have no furniture in your living room."

The unexpected observation made her laugh, and she watched his eyes darken in appreciation of the sound. Without realizing it they moved closer, her hand rising and curling around the lapel of his suit unconsciously. "You're a fountain of information tonight. You should leave a woman some of her secrets." She pressed a kiss to his cheek, and risked a second of hesitance to allow the warmth of him to seep into her clothes before stepping back. "Good night, Mr. Dominic."

"Good night, Ms. DeWitt."

* * *

The next week Dominic picked the lock on her front door and let his team into her home. It was a close thing but his software analysts figured out her pass code in time to prevent the alarm from sounding. Truth be told, he didn't expect to find any evidence in the dwelling. Digital thefts were easy to hide, the evidence deleted and scrubbed from the hard drive with only a few keystrokes, but he wasn't the type to leave any stone unturned. His team splintered off into the building, searching for desktops, laptops, flash drives, and even paper documents; anything that would let them tie any of the money to Adelle. He personally searched her library and bedroom, not because the idea of one of his team violating the very private woman's personal space seemed like a betrayal (though it did), but because he didn't want to risk missing anything. If the evidence was anywhere he felt it would be where she felt safest, and those two rooms were it.

The office was a no starter, her desktop held no hidden files and her history nothing suspicious. She didn't even illegally download music, though Dominic supposed at her wealth that she wouldn't have to. She had no hidden drawers in her desk, or caches in the walls. Dominic glanced over the room to assure himself everything was in its place before moving down the hall to her bedroom.

He faltered just inside the door, the sudden sensation of walking into air that smelled like her made his heart jump. He stalwartly ignored the small pool of satin beside the bed, refused to visualize her sliding from the huge expanse of mattress and discarding the garment nonchalantly. Instead he turned to the other pieces of furniture around the room, searching the bookcase and small vanity, the settee and her dresser, her closet and nightstand, finally turning his attention to the bed and sighing heavily as he approached. Her house-woman had yet to make the bed, the coverlet still lay rumpled from the night's sleep. He ran his hand over the sheets, recognizing quality thread-count just from the smooth surface, and forced himself to routinely search the foldings. He didn't believe he'd find anything, surely she wasn't so foolish as to keep anything in her home at all, let alone somewhere obvious like her bed.

Then he searched beneath her mattress, and his hands collided with a short flat device and his expectations flew out the window. He called for Ivy, his tech-savvy team member, and waited impatiently as she examined the flash drive.

He'd never admit that he was disappointed when she confirmed that the drive held financial records detailing the transference of millions of dollars to various accounts. It'd take time to trace all the transfers, but by all appearances it was exactly what they'd been searching for.

The LAPD bullpen cheered him when he walked in the door, flash drive in hand. He ignored their accolades, forced himself to smile, and handed it off to their analysts with nary a word. Detective Tsetsang was the only one who didn't look pleased.

"I know you've been off in Berlin or wherever for years, but we do have laws here in the states. Breaking and entering? Burglary? Any of that ring a bell? This won't hold up in court."

Dominic shrugged and watched as the police analysts started examining the information on the drive excitedly. "I'm here for the money, Detective. It's your job to convict her."

"Are you getting too close, Laurence? Maybe you don't want us to be able to convict her."

Dominic didn't like the tone she used anymore than the fact that she used his first name as if they were friends. Before he could respond in kind, perhaps a dig about the failed marriage that had turned her so bitter, one of the investigators turned from the computers and interrupted them. "This isn't it."

"What do you mean that isn't it?" Dominic demanded, stepping into the room and studying the graphs of transactions displayed on the large monitor hanging from the wall.

"From what we're tracing, these are all Rossum's charitable donations. They can all be traced back to Rossum, through legitimate channels."

"Thanks, Bennet," Tsetsang replied before Dominic could direct the frustration boiling on his face towards the young woman. "Guess your job isn't over yet, Mr. Dominic."

"Where's DeWitt?"

* * *

Couples swayed on the dance floor leisurely, the charity event in full swing when Dominic arrived. He wasted no time in finding her, his irritation at being so cleverly manipulated warring with his admiration of her well-planned turnabout. His irritation won out upon finding her so comfortably ensconced within the arms of another man, though from looks alone perhaps 'boy' would be a better description. The two danced well, moving as if they'd partnered before. She was taller than he by a few inches but she smiled down at the blond man with affection that wasn't faked.

Dominic was moving towards them before he was thinking, but it wasn't something he could stop, not tonight. He wasn't used to being outplayed, didn't like being on the losing end of the fight, and he was determined that he'd end the night back on top.

She was facing away from him, speaking to her dance partner in a low voice though Dominic could hear that her tone was cajoling. He rested his palm on her shoulder, interrupting their smooth movements, and she turned to him in surprise. "Mr. Dominic?"

"I'm cutting in," he asserted, his smile predatory as turned hard eyes on her partner.

The man cowered but looked to Adelle for approval before stepping away. "It's alright, Topher." She rested her hand briefly on his cheek before gesturing for him to go. "I'll speak to you later." She turned to him then, and they studied each other in silence for several seconds. Her gown was gorgeous and just a shade scandalous, the material sheer enough to tease and make it clear she wore no slip. Her hands reached out to tug gently at the crimson bow tie he wore, a smile ghosting across her face briefly. "It's a black and white ball, Mr. Dominic."

"I wasn't invited, anyways."

He twined his fingers with hers, their skin sparking heat where it brushed, and they came together to dance as if they were made to do so. Her arm slid around his shoulders easily, the hair on the nape of his neck tickling the bare skin but she was unwilling to move it. With each step their bodies brushed, breast to chest, hip to thigh, and her lust for him grew with each beat of the dance that echoed around them.

"You're toying with me," he said suddenly, breaking the tense silence that surrounded them.

"Come now, Mr. Dominic, I can't be arrested for a joke."

"Don't push me, Adelle."

"To think you were just inches away..." her smile was beautiful, bright enough to light up even the dimly lit ballroom.

"You arrogant-"

She laughed and pulled away, spinning out and then back as the music changed to something Latin and sultry. She had a look in her eyes then, a hunger that he had no other recourse but to match. He saw it in her movements, in the way her hands fisted in the back of his shirt as he dipped her, that she was just as frustrated as he. The constraints this investigation was putting on them, the heavy burden of what they were trying to do to each other, they both just wanted it to be gone. Just for tonight, just for this dance, they wouldn't be Mr. Dominic and Ms. DeWitt, thief and hunter. He just wanted to dance with her for the sake of dancing, and even as he did he knew it would never be enough.

She moved like a woman with nothing left to lose, her eyes flashing at him dangerously each time she got close enough that they shared the same breath. Her skin burned where he touched, and he felt her gasp when he pressed himself to her back. No one else danced as they did, like no one was watching when the opposite was the real truth; no one could take their eyes off of them. He grasped her arms and pulled her close, the movement savage and possessive, his body stiff as he lost the beat of the music and felt himself answering instead the beat of his heart. "Dance with me."

"I thought we were."

"No, Adelle. Do you want to  _dance_?"

It was typical of them, word games within word games, the true meaning of what they were trying to say hidden beneath metaphors and double  _entendres_. There was no mistaking his real question though when he pressed a soft kiss, so contrary to the fierce look on his face, against the corner of her mouth. Adelle returned the favor and their lips met again, the soft brush of lips against lips the culmination of days of flirtation and scraping egos.

When they left they took her car, neither speaking nor touching during the drive to her home. The next time he touched her was within the foyer of her house, and then he didn't stop touching her the rest of the night. They didn't even make it to her bedroom until hours later.

* * *

Breakfast the next morning was surprisingly smooth considering the untenable position they'd willingly placed themselves. One night of passion didn't erase the few weeks they'd known each other, or Dominic's duty to return the stolen money. It also didn't erase the years of impenetrable defenses that Adelle had cultivated to protect herself in just this situation, and even as she nibbled on her toast, her robe slipping off her shoulder to reveal an alabaster shoulder marred only by the slight blush left by his teeth, Dominic could see those walls rebuilding themselves in her eyes.

"You live very well," he noted, sipping his black coffee and studying the back of the paper she held in her hands. He ignored the way her eyes hardened at him and tilted his head to better read the latest article on police progress with the case. "It'd be a shame to lose it all."

"That depends on a very large presumption," Adelle responded with a small smile. She readjusted her hold on the newspaper, pulled the outer sheet loose and handed it to him, the better for him to read he assumed.

"I'm not giving up, you know. Not for a minute."

"I'd be disappointed if you did."

* * *

" _How do porcupines mate?"_

_Judith glanced at her patient over the rims of her glasses, a small smile twitching the corners of her lips. It was a non sequitur, but she'd come to expect the unexpected from Adelle. "Old joke. Very carefully."_

" _Carefully, or unsuccessfully? You don't see many porcupines."_

" _Creatures with highly evolved defense systems-"_

" _Like porcupines."_

" _Like 41 year old successful, self-involved loners," Judith concluded. "If you found a male mirror image and think you're going to form a rewarding relationship..."_

" _Think again," Adelle supplied, and from the look on her face Judith could only surmise that she'd already reached that conclusion and merely wanted outside confirmation. Adelle had never been the self-deluding type._

* * *

Detective Tsetsang and Officer Costley were going over surveillance photos when he arrived at the station, and he steeled himself for the recriminations that were coming. He set down his briefcase with a soft noise, watching from the corner of his eye as Costley smirked and Tsetsang gestured for her to go. She at least had the decency to wait until they were alone before making her ire verbal.

"Nice suit," she observed as she tossed the photos his way. Captured in snapshots the emotion on his face was raw, but he was pleased to note that Adelle was no more controlled than he. The photographer had indulged the artful side of the craft, zooming in on the points of physical contact. Her nails scraping indents into his back, the cloth dimpling under the force of their embrace, his hand caressing the soft skin of her thigh through the slit in her dress, and even the tender kiss that had spiraled the situation out of the little control they'd retained.

He returned the photos with the same nonchalant disregard that the detective had exhibited and shrugged. "Nice party."

"Did you even think twice?"

"No," Dominic admitted, turning to the wall of photographs on the far side of the room, the first place he'd seen Adelle. It looked almost untouched despite the two weeks of investigating that had come after that day. There were several new photos, but nothing that added any evidence to the case.

"You knew what you were doing."

"My job. She likes me, she'll keep liking me. I'll keep her right next to me."

"And you don't care what that makes you?"

Dominic smiled grimly, acknowledged the cutting question with a blank stare. "I know what I'm doing."

"Do you really?" Tsetsang asked, settling into her desk chair with a look of smug satisfaction that had Dominic been a lesser man he'd have been tempted to wipe from her face with brute force.

"This is just about money, Detective." At least that's what he kept telling himself.

* * *

The car shifted under his ministrations with nary a jolt and Dominic grinned widely at the sight of speedometer swinging closer to the red. At his side Adelle laughed freely, the air from the open window tearing strands of dark hair from her chignon and leaving her looking wind-blown and gorgeous. He'd seen many versions of her in the past few weeks, looking at her from eyes both professional and personal, but the woman in this car with him at the moment was one of his favorites. She wasn't thinking about the investigation, wasn't trying to distance herself from whatever was happening between them, she wasn't teasing him just to see the reaction she could garner from his normally stoic self. She was gripping her seat with white knuckles, her body practically humming along with the force of the car engine, and silently begging him to go faster, an impulse he couldn't deny.

It was her car, ridiculously expensive and fast, and her offer of a midnight drive to relieve the summer heat that plagued L.A. during August had peaked his interest. The fact that she was offering up her Bugatti Veyron to his handling, one of less than 300 in the world, had been the icing on the cake. Much like their relationship, it'd started slow, leisurely cruising through the city; they didn't speak to each other past small words, instead listening to music and letting the shadows broken only by streetlights fill the car with a mellow mood.

Then Dominic had hit the Hollywood Hills, long stretches of abandoned road with no traffic in the night and his inhibitions had been left behind with the city lights. It was dangerous and reckless, flying along the roads at such speeds, sliding along the pavement within inches of the rails that were the only thing keeping them from plummeting down the side of a mountain, but he was enjoying the risk. From the sound and sight of her, Adelle approved as well.

They curved their way through the Santa Gabriel Mountains in a matter of hours, and neither made a mention of stopping. They streaked into the desert as a dark blur on the road just as the sun began to rise and together they felt for the first time as if it were just them. No eyes watched their every move, marked down each look and touch, noted their reactions to certain words and gestures, no hidden agenda binding them in an unspoken duel. The things they didn't say could fill up an entire bookcase, but when she spoke his name he couldn't deny that he was losing control of the situation and he wasn't entirely upset at the notion.

"Laurence."

She didn't use first names, and he could never safely guess whether it was a British thing or a  _her_ thing. He would place even money on that it was just her, Adelle always damnably pushing everyone around her into perfect little categories, the better to distance herself. Despite the fact that they'd been lovers for almost a month this was the first time he could recall her actually using his name.

The surprise of it slackened the force he placed on the acceleration, and the car slid to a slow stop under the blazing sun. The Mojave Desert stretched out in every direction, the mountain range already a distant outline in the rear view mirror. He turned his head to look at her and her smile was serene as she looked back. There was already a soft glow of sweat on her skin, the sun slanting in through the open window and outlining her face in a bright glare. The violent wind of the drive had become a warm breeze that did little to break the heat, but he didn't notice the oppressive force of it anymore. The soft sound of the seat belt release didn't register in his senses as she released first her own and then his because within seconds she'd settled astride him and her mouth claimed his as if by right. Her body curved into his and his hands restlessly gathered the thin material of her skirt at her waist, grasping the bare skin beneath firmly and pulling her closer.

Her hair fell from the few remaining pins as he fisted shaking fingers in the soft waves, breaking the kiss and latching onto that soft stretch of skin that danced with her speeding pulse just under the curve of her ear. Her own fingers were no less steady as she pulled at the buttons of his shirt, parting the fabric and smoothing her hands along the bare skin urgently as their bodies twined passionately in the sparse space of the driver's seat.

She said his name again, breathed it into air with a whimper, and Dominic felt every muscle in his body jump at the sound.

Outside the heat grew steadily thicker, inside they made their own, and somewhere the world continued to turn without their notice. They'd had sex before, many times, rough and gentle, fast and slow, but this was different. It wasn't making love, but it was a gray area between the two, a place neither had been before and were hesitant to define. He wouldn't deny that the sound of her screaming his name would haunt his thoughts in the coming days, or that he'd never forget the way she looked as she came down from her high. She was affecting him in ways he couldn't prevent, changing him irrevocably and he knew without asking she wouldn't apologize for doing so.

When she extricated herself from his arms and returned to her seat he missed the weight of her, the feel of her bones against his, but he released her anyways.

"Now, Mr. Dominic, just where are we?"

He pursed his lips as he finally took in the visage outside the windows. He refastened his clothing without conscious thought, reaching over and twining their fingers in the same manner, and shrugged. "I don't think we're in California anymore."

"Thank you for that astute observation, Dorothy," she drolly replied, using her free hand to pull a cell phone from the glove compartment. "How do you feel about flying, Mr. Dominic?"

"As long it's not coach, I'm up for anything."

Adelle laughed even as she dialed a number into the phone, reaching over and brushing a kiss against his cheek, wrinkling her nose in distaste at the stubble that prickled her lips. "Only the best for you, darling."

Three hours later they were in the air and Dominic studied the view below with wary eyes. "Ms. DeWitt, I do believe I'm looking at the ocean."

"I do believe you're correct, Mr. Dominic."

"I have appointments, meetings I should be in," Dominic stated, his eyes scanning the stunning blue that spanned so magnificently below.

"Do you want to keep them?" It was a rhetorical question.

* * *

She kept a home on the coast of Hawaii, hidden among the trees there, miles away from anyone else. It had a view of the ocean the likes of which he'd never seen, and unlike her house in L.A. there was little to no security. He supposed she didn't need it here, in this private getaway accessible by roads most likely not listed on public maps.

"This must go over well," he noted as he stepped onto the balcony, his eyes consuming the vivid green of the forest that curved beneath him before ending in a strip of shining gold sand and brilliant azure ocean.

"With whom?"

"Whoever you bring here."

Dominic glanced at her over his shoulder, savoring the brief contact of their bodies as she stepped up beside him to take in the view, too. "I never bring anyone here," she answered quietly, refusing to look at him as she spoke. She left him at the railing and entered the dwelling, and though she wasn't smiling Dominic knew that just being in this place had contented some restless part of her that itched in the confines of the city. He didn't know what to make of her statement and what it meant in the context of their relationship, but it rang true to him. She could be very intensely private and it fit her profile that she would have a hideaway intended for only herself.

Yet she had brought him into her safe place with little to no fanfare.

She returned to the balcony with several articles of clothing tossed over her arm. She paused in the doorway, extending them towards him. "There's more inside if you dislike my choices."

"I bet they're all in my size," he observed as he examined the thin linen garments.

"Might be off here or there," she conceded with a smile. "We've a fully stocked kitchen, I'll make dinner if you'd like to shower."

"You cook?"

"I drink. The microwave cooks."

* * *

At some point she'd retrieved a laptop and she was clicking away at the keys when he joined her on the balcony. Dominic had eschewed the shirt in favor of just the pants and the Hawaiian evening breeze was a welcome respite after his hot shower. Adelle looked up from her seat at the pine table, snapping the computer shut with deliberately blank eyes, before she stood and brushed a kiss against his freshly shaven cheek. "Would you like some wine?"

"Yes, thank you," he answered, his eyes not budging from the small device on the table. He didn't even notice when she returned until she nudged his side and held out his drink.

"Would you like to use it?"

"No," his answer was immediate. It was the perfect opportunity, this wasn't a machine he or his team had found in her home so they'd never gotten a chance to search it. It could contain just the information they needed, the account numbers that would allow him to transfer all stolen funds back to the bank. It could also be a test on her part, an attempt to break truce between them and firmly entrench herself on one side of the line and him on the other. He didn't want to be her enemy, he just wanted to do his job, but he was slowly coming to realize that he wasn't going to be able to do both. At some point he would have to choose.

They ate on the open balcony, laughed together over microwaved lasagna, and he toasted her cooking skills with only the slightest condescension. It wasn't like he was a wizard in the kitchen himself. If his eyes kept straying back to the laptop that sat so innocently on the kitchen counter then it was perfectly innocuous. He had no active desire to search it for information, even if subconsciously the investigator in him was screaming at him to wait until she slept and ransack it for all it's digital secrets.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to check your email? You seem so concerned about your meetings and whatnot earlier," Adelle stated, studying his face through half-lidded eyes.

"I'm sure."

"Really?" Her smile was teasing, and he knew instantly that she was testing him.

"Do you think I'd believe you'd leave the information I need just laying around?"

"What if I did?"

"And that you'd tell me?"

"What if I trust you?"

Her question was unexpectedly honest, perhaps because it was the question they'd both been avoiding since their first night together. Lovers required a certain level of trust, and on the physical level they were in complete surrender, but emotionally was another matter.

"You know you can't," he replied, biting his lip softly and telling her exactly what he thought she wanted to hear.

"You don't believe it's possible that you could ever trust me, do you?" There was a shadow to her eyes now, and Dominic didn't know what to make of it. He was trying to keep the status quo, the verbal back and forth that defined them, but somehow he gained the sense that she was trying to change the game. Adelle was laying down new rules and he hated to play without knowing where the boundaries were set.

"You know how likely I think that is?" He asked without expecting an answer, not disappointed when she sighed and merely smiled at him. Her smile was sad, though, as if the conclusion of the conversation had already formed in her mind and they were speeding towards it without any brakes. He hated to be a foregone conclusion.

He set aside his wine and stood, glancing at her once more before crossing the patio and grasping the computer in his hands. He returned to his seat and captured her gaze, trying to tell her with his eyes that this wasn't a game for him, not anymore. If she didn't want to play then neither did he, but he wasn't sure where that left them. They were stuck in the roles they'd started in that bar more than a month ago, capable of ignoring the stigmas when they wanted, but still firmly entrenched in the continuing performance.

Dominic sighed heavily and lowered his eyes to the contraption between them. He held it easily in one hand, using the other to lift his wine and sip heavily. With a heavy heart that bore the weight of his next action, he tossed the device over the railing and into the dark of the jungle below. They didn't hear it hit the trees, nor the sound of it's destruction, but from that height there was little chance of it being retrieved without heavy damage. "Shall I open another bottle of wine?"

"Yes, please," she responded, her lips curving into her first real smile of the evening. "Perhaps the '85? This last bottle was a bit substandard."

He nodded, portioning the last of the wine between them before sitting back and studying the stars above. "So what was on there?"

"The first seven chapters of my memoirs," she answered bemusedly, her own gaze idly studying the shadowed trees below.

"Your memoirs," he repeated, his facial expression lightening to match her own distractedly amused one.

"Oh, yes," she nodded, "Random House Publishing has already expressed interest in purchasing it."

"You have a copy, though," he supposed, "back in L.A."

"Perhaps, can't be sure. My assistant Caroline sometimes forgets to do as I ask."

He nodded, his smile sheepishly adorable as he gazed at her over the table. "You're trying to drive me mad, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't say trying, no."

"I'll get that next bottle. I think I need at least a few more drinks."

Her laughter followed him into the wine cellar, and didn't stop until he returned and used his lips to silence it.

* * *

They spent the next couple of days blissfully ignorant, imagining without speaking of it what life might have been had they not met in this situation. If he'd been introduced at one of the society functions she attended regularly without enjoyment, or if she'd had business at the International Finance Bank and he'd been assigned to assist. Even scenarios where they lived entirely different lives danced through their thoughts in the idle moments, but in the end they were just fantasies. The world was waiting on the edge of the ocean, ready to deluge them with demands and concerns, with plans and schemes that neither were willing to cede.

In the dark of her cabana they rested without sleeping, naked in more ways than physical, her face pressed to his back and her fingers dancing along the muscles of his forearms and hands without pattern. They'd exhausted themselves physically, but their minds continued to spin round the serious thoughts that plagued them. In that room, with the only eyes watching their own, they couldn't resist the truth anymore.

"Just how big of a thief are you?"

She smiled against his skin, and her words feathered across his back muscles warmly. "If you count Wall Street? Pretty big. If you mean digital larceny...I'm an amateur." It was a candid answer, frank and brutal in it's honesty.

"Beginner's luck? English Rose takes the pot in poker with a pair of eights," Dominic noted, his chest vibrating lightly with the soft chuckles he couldn't repress.

"Something like that," she agreed slowly, her eyes barely open as she let the heat of the night and her own exhaustion pull her towards sleep.

"You have your hand caught in the cookie jar now," he whispered, "how are you going to get out of it?"

She sighed, her head turning upward so that she could see his face. She rested her chin lightly on his back, and thought for several seconds before answering. "It's just a game, Laurence. It's all just a game."

"Let me make a deal. With the money returned and nobody hurt-"

"Don't you see? There's no way out. You've done too good a job, Laurence," Adelle explained placidly, watching as the hurt and confusion warred on his face. She already had her people working on solutions, crafting exit strategies for her, but they'd yet to find one that would allow her to keep this man by her side. "What if I put the money back? I did it once, I can do it again."

"You're joking."

"Money is not funny."

"It can't be done. Besides, why would you want to?"

"It's not about the money. It's about me. Me and the system," she answered, her avarice clear just by her tone.

"What about me? You expect me to sit by and do nothing?"

"You let me," she replied, laughing as an idea slowly came to fruition in her mind. "It's my funeral, you're just along for the ride."

Her words set off alarms within his mind, and in a move too fast to follow he twisted beneath her, rolling until she lay on her back beneath him, her eyes the color of charcoal and absolutely unreadable. "What are you planning, Adelle?"

She didn't want to talk anymore however, and with skill born of weeks of practice she distracted him from his pursuit with her lips and her body, and found herself likewise carried away.

* * *

He woke the next morning alone, but the soft echo of her voice drifted through the halls. Before he was even completely awake he was moving towards her, but her words became clearer the closer he traveled and he found himself stopping just out of sight, letting her soft commands roll through his thoughts and felt the ripples they left in their wake. The barely audible noise of her cell phone shutting heralded the end of the conversation, and he forced himself into the room with a deliberately empty expression.

"You compliment me."

"How so?"

"You're liquidating your assets, getting ready to run."

"And supposed I did, Mr. Dominic? What would you have then?" She twisted in her seat to study him, an amused smile lingering on her lips. "Not the money, not your fee, not me."

"Yes," he stated, the word devoid of inflection, though his eyes couldn't conceal that he didn't like the idea of it.

"Supposed I paid your fee?"

"To fail?" It was a foreign concept to him, it'd been so long since he'd done so. He'd never failed deliberately and perhaps that she asked it of him demonstrated how ill well she knew him. Dominic was looking at her face as she asked however and knew her well enough to know that the entire conversation was trivial; she asked merely to ask but she already knew the answer. "How would I hide it?"

"I'd teach you."

It was just another fantasy, and they were both growing tired of pretending.

* * *

"Two days and two nights in Hawaii, on the job, and you have nothing to show for it?"

"You don't appreciate my tan?" Dominic questioned, sparing only a glance for the frustrated detective that glared down at him from across the table.

"Would you like to know where she was the night before you left? Or perhaps even the night you returned? Hell, how about last night? Aren't you curious?" Dominic could tell Tsetsang was amused by something, and getting to know the detective these past weeks told him instinctively it would somehow be at his detriment.

"Not really," he replied, refusing to take the bait. He turned his attention back to the papers before him, studying the account transactions and trying fruitlessly to find a pattern where even the computers could find none.

"Okay, suit yourself," she idly fanned herself with the folder in hand, her smile mild as she slowly turned to leave. A single photograph slipped from its manila holder, and settled on the table mere feet from him. Adelle's face stared up at him in black and white, taunting him with the secrets he knew she still kept from him.

"Detective," his voice was rougher than usual but it was his only concession to the emotions stirring in his chest. He gestured for her to hand over the file, and he glared when she deliberately took her time walking around the table until she hovered over his shoulder as he spread the photographs across the table beneath him. The small writing on the corner labeled them all as being taken late at night, and they varied in location from the street to the interior of an apartment he didn't recognize. He knew the subject with her, recognized him from the black and white ball where he'd cut in on their dance.

"His name is Topher Grace. Graduated from M.I.T. at thirteen with dual degrees in computer architecture and cryptography. Brilliant man, I.Q. in the 200s; they've been friends for years."

She was smiling in the pictures, her arm interlinked with the man's as they walked down the street. The two were clearly close, but it was the pictures of them entering his apartment that seemed the most damning. Dominic wanted to feel nothing upon seeing them, and though he felt capable of keeping the emotion from his face, his heart swelled with jealousy. That was  _his_ smile and _his_ laugh that she shared so freely; her hand interlinked with this stranger's where such intimacy he felt sure she reserved for him. Where was her cool demeanor and distance in these photos? If the boy was such a good friend why had she never mentioned him to her?

"I never took Ms. DeWitt for a cougar, but one does wonder just what she's wearing under that trench coat. We're in the middle of a heat wave, Mr. Dominic, and that's what we in the police force call suspicious behavior."

"She's a conservative woman," Dominic replied, forcing his hands to be steady as he gathered the photographs together and returned them to the folder. He handed it to the detective and refused to give her the satisfaction of reaction. "Any other new information you'd like to discuss, Detective?" He refused to look at her as he gathered his things, waiting until his copies of new paperwork and findings were within his briefcase and his coat on his arm before he actually turned to the woman.

Tsetsang wasn't amused anymore Dominic was grateful to see, but he disliked the pity on her face even more than he disliked her attempts to tease him. "Still just a job, Mr. Dominic?"

He didn't bother to acknowledge the question. "I'll contact you if I make any more progress, or come across information you might conceivably use."

* * *

"How would you feel about Labor Day in Napa? An old colleague of mine, Mr. Langton, has invited me to an event he's holding in his home there to benefit Alzheimer's."

They were less than a foot a part from each other, but emotionally it was practically the Mojave Desert. The car ride was smooth, the air conditioner kept the relentless summer at bay but the cold shoulder he'd been giving her all night could've done that alone.

"This weekend? That's soon," he replied quietly, never taking his gaze from landscape that blurred just outside the car window.

"I sense hesitation," she observed, reaching over just enough that their fingers brushed where their hands rested on the leather seats. "Do you find my company monotonous?"

He smiled but Adelle could see small signs of strain on his face when he shifted to face her. "No. Why would I be bored by you? I don't require a little variety."

He was angry, she realized, and contrary to the times before this was a cold anger that seethed just under the surface and whispered of dangerous things. It whispered to her that he was capable of dangerous things. He was still her Mr. Dominic, though, and she was unafraid. "You're speaking of Topher?" She questioned, and as with most of the questions they asked each other they both already knew the answer. She smiled and shook her head vaguely. "They photographed me with Topher. I thought they might."

His chin was clenched so tightly that the muscles of his neck stood out, and he turned from her, again refusing to look her in the face as he spoke. "That's your prerogative."

"I let it happen, Laurence. Do you want to know why?"

"No. I don't want-"

"Let me tell you why-"

"I don't want to know why, Adelle," he said fiercely, his entire body stiff as if he could steel himself against the conversation she desperately wanted to have and he seemed insistent on avoiding. He reached for the intercom, opening the channel to the driver with the push of a button. "Paul, you can let me out on the next corner."

"Keep driving, Paul," Adelle ordered, grasping Dominic's forearm as she turned her attention to him. "Talk to me, Laurence. Let me-"

"Let me out now," he ignored her, barely waiting for the vehicle to come to a full stop before pushing the door open and escaping the car. He was so clearly upset that normally she'd give him time and the space he wanted, but tonight she couldn't risk it. She needed to make him understand, needed him to look at her in the same manner he had before, in what she'd always assumed was love even if neither of them would ever name it.

She left the car and went after him, her flats allowing her to easily eat up the little distance he'd made between them already. "Ask me why. You're upset by the photographs, so ask me why."

"I'm upset because you wanted me to be upset. Well played, Ms. DeWitt," he retorted, spinning around and confronting her face to face.

"I needed you to be upset," she admitted, her hands raising as if to touch him before she thought better of it.

"So you're sadistic? I'm not surprised."

"Did it ever occur to you that I needed to know?"

"Know what?"

"Needed to know if all it was to you was the money. Was it the only reason you were with me?"

His snappy retort died on his tongue and he glanced away as she again stripped him of all his defenses with just a few words. "And what about you?"

"I can leave here tomorrow, Laurence. And so can you."

"We'd be fugitives," he pointed out, stepping forward and grasping her waist to pull her closer.

"Fugitives with means," she replied with a smile, pressing a kiss to the small cleft in his chin.

"I don't know if I can. I just-" he sighed and placed an answering kiss against her temple. "I don't think I can."

* * *

He'd been sitting alone in Detective Tsetsang's office for several hours before the morning shift began to wander in to get ready for the a.m. patrols. They walked past the open door but didn't enter or attempt to make polite conversation, granting him an illusion of solitude he appreciated. He studied the pictures tacked up, skimmed and organized the papers that littered the tabletop, finally settling down to wait for Detective Tsetsang to arrive. The information had been right in front of their faces for weeks, almost from the very beginning, and Dominic could admit to himself that both he and Detective Tsetsang had let his relationship with Adelle distract them. It was most likely what she'd intended all along, but he was back on the right track again and knew now it was only a matter of time before the loose ends tied themselves.

"You're here early."

Tsetsang offered him a styrofoam cup of coffee so hot it still steamed even in the eighty degree air of the station and he accepted it with a grateful nod. "He went to M.I.T., graduated with double degrees, both in computer technology."

"If you're here to have girl talk about your fling with the suspect, I don't want to hear it."

"His consulting business takes in millions a year, he has over fifty programs patented, half of which are exclusively contracted to Rossum Corp. In the weeks before the theft, he and Ms. DeWitt had an increase in email and phone traffic of 53%. My team can't tell what was being said, but the increase is suspicious. Tack onto that the misdemeanor charges of hacking during his post-graduate studies at the California Institute of Technology, where Ms. DeWitt sponsors a scholarship," he paused for dramatic effect, pulling a surveillance shot from the neat pile in front of him and pushing it across the table towards the detective, "which he won and was how he met Ms. DeWitt and they became friendly. She loaned him the capital to start his company, and there have been various business and personal connections over the years since then."

Tsetsang set aside her coffee and picked up the photo, studying the face of the younger blond man with new eyes. "You think he's connected."

"I think he wrote the program that she used," he corrected.

"By now there's no evidence left, he'll have cleaned everything. We have no way to prove it."

"Actually," Dominic smiled at he grimly, "that's not entirely true. The bank had a closed network, and several weeks before the theft they underwent a security software upgrade. For the program to bypass the firewalls I'm told Mr. Grace would have needed direct access to a computer terminal somewhere in the building sometime after that. I believe that if we go back through the security footage, we'll have him on camera."

"How long does the bank hold onto their camera footage?"

"Two weeks, but the LAPD confiscated everything they had at the beginning of the investigation." Dominic shrugged. "If he's on there, it'll be there."

He was, and the warrant to search the man's home and office was granted by a judge with very little pushing on the district attorney's part. Dominic didn't join Detective Tsetsang or her team as they searched the buildings; he directed his driver to take him to Adelle's and refused to think of what it might do to the investigation for him to go to her even as the police were building the case against her ever stronger.

The first thing he saw when he walked in the door were the suitcases at the bottom of the stairs. Instantly he felt it, the finality of the coming moments. There was a static void of sound in his head as he calmly walked up the stairs to the second floor, stopping in the doorway to watch her move through her bedroom, calmly directing her house-woman in the removal of her belongings from the closet and dresser and into more luggage even as she carried on a conversation on her phone.

"Topher, darling, breathe. Mr. Ambrose is already on his way, and he's an absolute beast. He'll have these warrants tossed out within the hour. In the meantime, your flight is in three hours. Understandably packing is out of the question while they search, but please tell me you have your passport on your person." He knew the instant she saw him, though she continued to sift through the drawers of her vanity as if his reflection's appearance didn't surprise her. She met his eyes in the mirror, curved her lips in greeting, but continued her conversation nonetheless. "That's good, Topher. Have they searched the kitchen? Completely? Then go raid your drawer of inappropriate starches and have a snack. It's a long flight and you know you get cranky without regular snacks. They only allow small bags of peanut on commercial flights these days and that just will not sustain you." She muttered a few more sentences into the phone, but nothing of consequence. Dominic remained frozen in the doorway as she finished the call, waited until she set the small hand-held aside and turned to him before he spoke.

"You're leaving."

"I've finally grown weary of the heat, Mr. Dominic. I felt a sojourn to Europe was in order. You're more than welcome to join me, of course, though usually when I suggest we take a trip together you react badly." She smiled at him, nodded a dismissal at her helper and waited until they were alone before speaking again. "Perhaps I should change my approach altogether. When I simply arrange things and you're forced to go along things seem to end well."

"You're running," he ignored the rest of her statement, didn't want to think of the implications and instead focused on the reason he was here.

"My plane leaves the tarmac in six hours, Laurence," she answered quietly, moving across the room and sitting herself on the edge of her bed with a small sigh. "There is room on the flight for you. I could even have them stock your favorite vermouth, should you require liquid courage."

"Don't ask me to compromise the investigation. I can't," he replied. The list of things he couldn't do, things he wouldn't do, seemed to grow longer and more conflicted with the passing of each minute. He couldn't feasibly see himself boarding her private jet and leaving his entire life and career behind, he couldn't even see himself taking another step into the room.

"I'm not asking you to do anything against your principles. We're both just going to have to do what we have to do, Mr. Dominic. It's as simple as that." She stood on unsteady legs, Dominic noticed her subtle shifting stance as she forcibly straightened her body on too high heels. The steps towards him were stronger, each more so, and when she stood mere inches away she smiled at him. "Burbank Airport, five o'clock. I leave with or without you."

Dominic was sitting in Tsetsang's office when she and her team returned from the raid on Mr. Grace's home and office. He could tell by the look on her face that they'd found something but he couldn't find the will to be overly curious about what. Just over the desk the cheap clock ticked obnoxiously and he couldn't resist throwing it a small glare.

"We found a flash drive that looks pretty damn alike to the one he had on the footage. It's been wiped, but the analysts say they might be able to find a ghost in the registry for what was on there," Tsetsang explained without prompting, pulling a still from the bank footage from a file and handing it to Dominic though she had to realize he'd already seen everything within it. "It's circumstantial, but it's a step."

Dominic studied the shot he was already familiar with and set it aside to reach for his briefcase. He shuffled the papers within silently for several seconds before removing a small file and setting it on the desk between them. It took only a few seconds for him to find the captured still from the bank footage he was looking for, but he procrastinated for another minute. If he gave this to the detective then it was well and truly over, there would be no going back. He wanted it to be a question of his ethics, of whether or not he could tolerate her morally gray nature when his own honor code was so strict, but it wasn't. He wasn't debating his next move, he was anticipating how much it was going to hurt.

"That flash drive looks to be a mirror of this one," he noted as he handed the photo to Detective Tsetsang. "That was taken the day of crime, and yes, that is Adelle DeWitt holding it."

"How long have you had this?"

"Three days. My team processed the surveillance footage faster than your's, they brought that to my attention though I wasn't sure it's significance until just now." It was a lie and he knew that Tsetsang recognized it for one.

"With this we can probably push through a warrant for DeWitt's home and office."

"You won't find anything."

"You don't have the crime scene unit like we do," Tsetsang argued, "we can find things that aren't there anymore. Fingerprints, impressions, trace fibers."

"Can't find something that isn't there," he shot back. "She's leaving, packed up this morning."

"When were you planning on informing me of this?"

Dominic leaned back, studied the anger on the detective's face, and forced a nonchalant shrug. "Just now."

"The warrant will take a while, but this is enough to seize her passport. We can keep her in town until we get more evidence," Tsetsang was practically talking to herself by that point, her hand already reaching for the phone and dialing the district attorney. Dominic didn't say anything, but his gaze tracked to the clock and mentally calculated how long the red tape would most likely last. The knot in his chest told him that they would be there in time to stop Adelle's flight but it would be a close thing.

Tsetsang slammed the phone down and interrupted his brooding, halfway out the door before she realized he wasn't following. "You coming, Mr. Dominic? The district attorney wants me to meet him at the courthouse."

"Might as well," he nodded and stood, grabbing the photos on the desk and returning them to his briefcase. "I have nothing better to do."

* * *

"I don't recommend cornering her, Detective," Dominic asserted from the passenger seat. They sat in the prone vehicle, both studying the airplane being prepped a few hundred feet away. "She won't react well to that."

"Shall I go up and request her presence at tea, Mr. Dominic?" Her snide tone revealed just what she thought of his suggestion, but Dominic grew increasingly uncomfortable with the way her police officers were handling themselves as they stepped out of the numerous vehicles now parked on the tarmac. Most of them were too eager, their holsters unsnapped like they were about to enter the O.K. Corral, and the rest had the hard eyes of people who'd lost more than a bit of their humanity on the job.

"Do you really need twelve officers to serve a cease-and-desist to a white-collar-criminal?"

"Are you going to be a problem?"

"I thought I already was?"

"After today you can't be involved with the case," she confirmed, though Dominic had already suspected the district attorney had told her as much in their brief conversation just out of his hearing range. "The D.A. has the backing of the International Finance Corporation on that."

He could already imagine his bosses were furious, but Dominic couldn't really find it in himself to care. "Tell your men to lock their holsters and fall back. She's not going to be a problem. She's British aristocracy, for God's sake. At the most, she'll smack you and challenge you to a duel."

Tsetsang smirked but shrugged. "We go by department policy, Dominic, and your judgment is skewed." She paused before exiting the car, "But I'll have them lock their holsters."

He watched her team move towards the plane, not allowed to actually join them. In his head the scene played out, Adelle unsurprised and acerbically witty, Tsetsang arrogant and gloating; they'd exchange cutting comments before Adelle's lawyer would step out of the cockpit and introduce himself. They'd relinquish her passport but swear to fight the detainment in court, most likely they'd be capable of having it thrown out. All the evidence against Adelle was circumstantial and only remotely damning; any good lawyer would be able to keep her and Mr. Grace out of prison. He wasn't worried about her going to prison; Dominic's priority had always been to get the money back by whatever means necessary, even if it meant using illegal means himself.

"Mr. Dominic, if you'd join us, please?" Detective Tsetsang called to him from the door to the plane, but Dominic was lost as to why. Her invitation was a violation of protocol given that he'd been dismissed of his privileges regarding the case.

The walk across the long expanse of concrete felt like it took hours, though Dominic knew it was really only minutes. Several of the police officers took up stances at the bottom of the portable stairs and he wasn't encouraged by the empty looks on their faces. Whatever they may have found in there no one looked happy about and suddenly the knot in his stomach twisted cruelly as the possibilities warred in his thoughts.

Tsetsang stood at the open door, her eyes cold and her mouth twisted in a dissatisfied scowl as she waited for him to join her. By the time he reached her side there was a thin layer of sweat on his brow and his own mouth had slipped into frown. "I'm not supposed to be here."

"I thought you'd like to see this," Tsetsang offered, stepping aside so he could enter the cabin of the private jet. He hesitated, tried to see some hint of what he was walking into on her face but failed to garner anything. He shrugged and stepped inside, took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the sudden dimness, and moved further into the plane. He didn't see anything out of place; it was pristine and empty, set up more like a comfortable lounge than a commercial airplane. It looked exactly as it had the last time he'd been on it, the exception being that Adelle wasn't on board this time.

As soon as he thought of it he realized that was why Tsetsang had called him over. Adelle wasn't here making her escape as he'd told the detective she would be.

"There's a note with your name on it," the detective offered, nodding towards the small envelope laying on side table by the window. "Figured I'd let you read it before I hand it over to the crime scene techs. Wear gloves." Her admonition was accompanied by a pair of latex gloves tossed at him that he caught easily. He slipped them on without complaint and was just reaching for the envelope when Tsetsang's phone chirped loudly into the silent cabin. He didn't spare her a single look as she flipped open the device and stepped out the door to speak in low tones, his attention was entirely on communique bearing his name just in front of him.

She'd used her personal stationary, the paper soft and thick and just slightly cream colored; the ink swirled across the page in deep swathes from pressure and he knew she'd been emotional when writing it if she'd pressed down so hard.

His fingers weren't shaking as he removed the folded letter from within the envelope, but his entire body felt like it was vibrating from tension as he unfolded it. The simple message within burned his retinas, the dark ink dancing shadows behind his eyes. Detective Tsetsang's voice was shrill and angry as it echoed back to his ears, but it was all noise for the little he paid her attention.

_I trust you._

She didn't sign her name. It was simple and to the point, succinct to the exclusion of emotion, but Dominic couldn't help but feel the statement was candidly cutting. She'd trusted him and he'd betrayed her. Even worse, it was exactly what she'd expected him to do.

"Throw it in an evidence bag and let's go," Tsetsang barked from the cabin door, yanking him from his introspection with no ceremony. "They want to see us at the Bank of L.A."

"You don't want to read it?" Dominic questioned, taking an evidence bag from one of the officers that appeared on the opposite end of the cabin, slipping from the cockpit where they'd been interrogating the pilot.

"I already have," she replied, shrugging without a hint of remorse. "She's not here, we have no leads on her location, and my boss just told me to get my ass over to the bank. Your presence has been specifically requested so let's go."

* * *

The bank manager invited them into his office as soon as they stepped foot in the building and the door shut behind them with a firm click that had Dominic and Tsetsang exchanging wary glances as they declined to take a seat and instead studied the man before him. He was nervous, his hands shaking and his brow sweating despite the fully cranked air conditioning that blew coldly from a vent above the desk. Behind the manager's desk sat another man and Dominic was surprised to find he recognized him.

He stepped forward to shake the man's hand, smiling professionally though his mind reeled from the consequences of the man's presence. "Hello, Mr. Perrin. May I introduce the detective in charge of the L.A.P.D.'s investigation? This is Detective Tsetsang," Dominic turned to her and completed the introduction. "Detective, this is Mr. Daniel Perrin, Chief Investigative Officer for the I.F.C."

"Your boss?" She simplified with a smirk, shaking the man's hand and stepping back with an amused look on her face.

"We prefer the term 'director'," Perrin offered, gesturing for the two of them to seat themselves before the desk. Maybe it was the charm the man exuded so easily, or the sense of power and influence that clung to his expensive suit, but neither declined the offer that time. With just a look from Perrin the manager scurried out of the officer, the trio remained silent until he was gone, and with a small smile Perrin let the silence continue for several seconds before speaking. "We are in a bit of a quandary, Mr. Dominic."

"I can explain my actions," Dominic began but Perrin continued speaking as if he hadn't bothered.

"The theft that you and Detective Tsetsang have been investigating for two months never actually occurred."

Dominic observed the slight blush that rose on Mr. Perrin's neck, the way his eyes immediately shifted from Dominic's eyes to a point between his eyebrows, subtle enough but blatant signs of lying. His first reaction was to demand an explanation, but he knew immediately that the truth wasn't something that was on the menu today. Tsetsang wasn't as clued in, however, and her reaction was overzealous.

"Excuse me? What the hell do you mean it 'never occurred'?"

"During a routine examination of locked sub-accounts we came across discrepancies in the amounts. Nothing large enough to garner federal attention, which requires transfers $5000 and above to be registered, but upon calculation the sum total of the difference was concluded to be the exact amount incorrectly labeled "stolen" several months ago. Our analysts believe a glitch within the software security led to the error," Perrin explained, retaining his charming but utterly fake smile.

"What kind of glitch causes 100 million to go missing?" Tsetsang asked through clenched teeth. Dominic worried briefly about the look on her face, she was angrier than he'd ever seen her and the way that vein was pulsing in her temple didn't look healthy, but he allowed her to monopolize the conversation. His own concerns would be best addressed in private, away from the prying ears of the L.A.P.D.

"With the increase in digital theft every year our research and development department felt it pertinent to implement subroutines designed to hide large accounts of money from hackers in locked accounts that couldn't be accessed from outside the company. They explained that they seemed to have done a better job than intended, but with the money transferred back to the appropriate accounts the situation has been resolved."

"I don't believe this," Tsetsang muttered, pushing herself up and pacing the office restlessly. "I've been working this case for two freakin' months, and you're telling me I was wasting my time? I don't believe it. DeWitt did something. She's involved in this. I don't know how, but she is."

"You have the appropriate paperwork, Mr. Perrin?" Dominic asked, deliberately calm and placid as he accepted the file Perrin held out to him. He studied the figures and tables within, made a show and studying the words and numbers even as Tsetsang continued to pace behind him. "Everything seems to be in order, Detective. Would you like-"

She snatched the file from his hands and glared at the both of them. "This investigation is not closed. Something happened that day, and I will find out what."

Perrin and Dominic watched the Detective storm out with a determined look on her face but both of them knew that nothing stonewalled an investigation as well as big corporation and it's love of money. If the International Finance Corporation didn't want the matter investigated further then it wouldn't be, and there was nothing Tsetsang could do about it.

Dominic stood and shut the door, locked it for good measure, and turned back to Mr. Perrin. "Locked sub-accounts?"

"The board wants this handled quietly. Your fee will be transferred to your account within the hour," Perrin replied. "They look forward to having you back in Berlin."

"If the money was never gone, then I couldn't have retrieved it. Why pay my fee?"

"We'll resolve the problem within the media with a simple solution. You located the funds with the assistance of the L.A.P.D. and were able to transfer them back to the original accounts. You've more than earned your fee, Mr. Dominic."

"Hush money?" Dominic observed, smirking just a bit as he confronted Perrin across the desk. "Did DeWitt have something to do with this?"

"As far as the board is concerned, this was a large misunderstanding that was played up by the media and police force into a conspiracy that never existed," Perrin explained, shrugging away Dominic's question. "Ms. DeWitt has been very understanding of the entire matter, and as a show of faith has agreed to allow all of Rossum's financial interests be handled by I.F.C. for the indeterminate future."

"What about-"

"Your flight leaves in six hours, Mr. Dominic," Perrin interrupted with a stony look in his eyes. He reached into his suit jacket and removed a small leaflet to hand to Dominic. "Rest assured, this matter has been successfully resolved for all parties."

It didn't feel like closure, though, and even knowing that his job was technically done didn't make Dominic feel any less irked by the lack of resolution. He knew that he wouldn't get answers, not here, maybe not ever, so he took the airline ticket and nodded slowly. "I'll write up my report on the flight and have it delivered to your office within 24 hours of my arrival."

"No need to be so prudent, Mr. Dominic. Take a few days to rest, you've worked quite hard on this investigation. We can schedule a meeting later this week and go over your report together," Perrin explained. Dominic knew the real intention would be to corroborate the stories they would perpetuate on paperwork should anyone come investigating, but it was what he'd expected. This wasn't the first time he'd been involved in a cover-up of the truth regarding financial crime and most likely it wouldn't be the last. Big business was always part behind-the-scenes scheming, part public-relations manipulation, and what little was left could barely be called business ethics. It bothered him on an innate level, but he couldn't say it surprised him anymore. He'd grown accustomed to the calculating nature of working in the finance world, but this was the first time he could truly say he was unsatisfied with his career.

In the few seconds between standing and shaking Perrin's hand and stepping out the office door, Dominic decided it hadn't been worth it. Betraying Adelle, relentlessly pursuing the missing money that was basically a drop in the well of what I.F.C. had at their disposal, sacrificing the little happiness he'd found in years just to do his job only to find that it'd already been done for him? With an ache that echoed from his chest and reverberated behind his eyes, Dominic found himself at a standstill in the empty hall, unsure how to make himself put one foot in front of the other.

He had his fee, had his job, had somehow landed on his feet despite the mess he'd made of the investigation; he was suddenly and irrevocably aware that he stood alone though.

* * *

It was a late night flight and everyone on the plane was appropriately somber as they settled in. Dominic stowed his carry-on above his seat and settled himself in for the long flight ahead with a weary sigh. They'd have a layover in New York to refuel before they began the long journey over the Atlantic and he fully intended to sleep most of the travel time away. He'd already requested a travel pillow and light blanket from a flight attendant and had somehow landed the lucky odds of not having a seat mate. He heard the crew going through the motions of sealing off the plane, explaining safety measures to the other passengers, but his mind was miles away.

The jet began to move, slowly drifting towards the runway, and with another sigh Dominic eased his seat back and settled in to try to sleep. His eyes were closed and he was just on the edge of drowsiness when he felt movement beside him, the soft brush of air as someone slipped into the seat next to him. He frowned but didn't stir, hoped that whoever it was would know better than to bother him.

"If we were on my private jet you could've stretched out and been truly comfortable. You're a touch too tall to be comfortable sleeping in business class."

He could almost tell himself he was imagining her voice, but the soft scent of gardenias that invaded his senses wasn't something he felt his mind capable of duplicating.

"Do you think I'm going to apologize?" Dominic asked without opening his eyes or moving even a centimeter. He was frozen, unwilling to move or risk doing something that would break the fragile connection they'd pushed to the breaking point that day.

"No," she replied and even with his eyes closed he knew she was smiling. "No, Laurence, I do not expect you to apologize. I trust you, you know. It's odd for me. Unexpected."

"I told the police you were leaving," he pointed out, reaching down blindly and pulling the lever to straighten his seat. He blinked slowly at the back of the seat before him; without turning his head he could see her profile, the sleek skirt and gorgeous legs crossed nonchalantly, her right foot bobbing back and forth the only sign of nerves she allowed.

"I knew you would," she replied, reaching over and laying her hand on his arm. "I trust you to be yourself, Laurence. Works out quite well for me, since I love you."

She'd never said it before and his head turned towards her before he could stop himself. She looked tired but beautiful, her eyes waiting for a reaction where he wasn't sure how to respond. "I still don't know what to do. You returned the money, my boss is telling me job well done, but I still feel like the other shoe needs to drop."

"There is no choice anymore, Laurence. It's not the money, your job, or me. I decided I didn't want to be an option," she explained frankly, her lips curling in a small smile.

Dominic frowned, his throat closing around the words forming there. "So I've lost you anyways."

Adelle gaped at him, confusion furrowing her brow as she listened to his words. Dominic shifted so her hand slid off of his arm, and sat stoically studying the moving landscape outside the small port window. He expected her to leave then, having driven home the feeling of his loss with words softly spoken in the dim light of the cabin. To his surprise she unlatched her seatbelt, ignoring the sign calling for safety measures before take-off, and slid into his lap, forcing him to face her. "I said I didn't want to be an option. I've decided "requirement" is a better classification for my place in your life, if you'll have me. I figured somewhere between 'air' and 'sustenance' would suit me just fine."

Her last words were whispered against his lips and with each glancing touch of her lips he felt the chains of his grief and melancholy fall away. His arms circled her waist too tightly and he felt her gasp at the pressure but they were sharing the same breath again and he couldn't think of a place he'd rather be in that moment.

One of the flight attendants appeared on the other side of Adelle's now empty seat, admonishing their disregard for safety measures but neither heard her.

Neither felt like rules really applied to them anyways.


End file.
